The Give-ler
by Cameron Grant
Summary: There is a story of a man who contributed to the destruction of individuality... a man who lives alone in Elsewhere, and has lived there for thousands of years. But is it really just a story... or is it true?


Jonas loved memories of Autumn, and he was grateful that the Giver had stored hundreds of them in his memory. They gave him satisfaction from all five of his senses; he saw the reds and yellows and browns of the changing trees, felt the crisp, cool air brushing past his cheeks, heard the the crunch his footsteps made as he bounded through the piles of fallen leaves, inhaled the hypnotic scent of a pumpkin spice candle, and tasted the chilly air on his tongue.

He wished that he had lived long enough ago to have experienced Autumn and all the joy that it seemed to have brought upon all the people of the world. He wished he could have attended a bonfire with friends and family. He wished he could have carved intricate patterns into pumpkins and set them out on his porch on Halloween night. He wished he could have devoured a colossal slice of savory turkey on Thanksgiving day.

But most of all, he wished he could have seen the trees.

Jonas figured that sounded a bit absurd. All of the wonderful things of Autumn, and all he really wanted was the trees. And he expected the Giver to laugh when he told him so. He was surprised by what the Giver said instead.

"There's no shame in wanting to see trees. In fact, I have longed to see them myself."

"But... why did they take them away, Giver? Those Elders from back and back and back, why did they choose to get rid of the trees? Why would anyone want that?"

"I don't know, Jonas. I.."

The Giver let his thought hang in the air. He smirked and shook his head.

"What, Giver?" Jonas inquired curiously, leaning forward in his seat. "What were you about to say?"

The Giver shook his head once more and rested his chin in his hands. He had a playful gleam in his eyes.

"It's nothing, Jonas. Only a story that the Giver told me when I was your age. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

Jonas stared at the old man in front of him. The Giver never kept anything from Jonas, so what reason did he have to keep this from him?

"Giver?" Jonas asked. "Would you tell me the story?"

The Giver turned to face Jonas, surprised.

"Really? You want to hear it?"

Jonas nodded.

"I don't see why not, unless you have a reason, Giver."

The Giver chuckled and sat up in his seat.

"No, I have no reason. Alright," he cleared his throat. "The Giver once told me that back and back and back, when the Elders were dividing the world into Sameness, there was a young man named Edward Once. Edward was an inventor, always on the lookout for new ways to create. One day, he was on a hike out in the woods-"

"Which are full of trees," Jonas cut in.

"Yes," the Giver smiled. "Full of trees. Anyhow, he got an idea for an invention."

"What was it?"

The Giver shrugged and shook his head disappointingly.

"That's just it. No one knows. But whatever it was, by the time he was through with it, all the trees in the world were gone."

Jonas stared open-mouthed at the Giver.

"_All _of them? Not a single one was left?"_  
><em>

"No. Not a single one."

Jonas nodded solemnly and stared at the ground. What sort of cruel invention could have possibly destroyed _all _of the trees in the whole _world?_

"I wish I could know what the invention was. I wish I could have stopped him." Jonas mumbled aloud.

"Ah, Jonas, but here is the interesting part," the Giver continued, raising his index finger. "I was told that when the world divided into communities, Edward stayed out. He _willingly _is living in Elsewhere."

Jonas though he had heard the Giver incorrectly.

"_Living, _Giver? Present tense?"

The Giver grinned.

"Yes. I was told that Mr. Once is still alive, alone in Elsewhere."

Jonas shook his head in confusion.

"Still alive? But how? It's been thousands of years, back and back and back..."

The Giver shrugged and rubbed his chin.

"I don't know, Jonas. As I said, this is just a story I heard as a boy. I cannot even say for sure that it's a true story."

Jonas stared down at the wooden floorboards. It _was _possible that the story really was just a story, but then again...

What if it wasn't?


End file.
